https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/ Thu, 30 Apr 2026 04:38:31 +0000 MyBB https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16310 Sun, 08 Jul 2007 08:36:43 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16310
‘T is winter now, but spring will blossom soon,
And flowers will lean to the embracing air,
And the young buds will vie with them to share
Each zephyr’s soft caress; and when the Moon

Bends her new silver bow, as if to fling
Her arrowy lustre through some vapor’s wing,
The streamlets will return the glance of night
From their pure, gliding mirrors, set by spring

Deep in rich frames of clustering chrysolite,
Instead of winter’s crumbled sparks of white.
So dearest! shall our loves, though frozen now,

By cold unkindness, bloom like buds and flowers,
Like fountain’s flash, for Hope with smiling brow
Tells of a spring whose sweets shall all be ours!]]>
‘T is winter now, but spring will blossom soon,
And flowers will lean to the embracing air,
And the young buds will vie with them to share
Each zephyr’s soft caress; and when the Moon

Bends her new silver bow, as if to fling
Her arrowy lustre through some vapor’s wing,
The streamlets will return the glance of night
From their pure, gliding mirrors, set by spring

Deep in rich frames of clustering chrysolite,
Instead of winter’s crumbled sparks of white.
So dearest! shall our loves, though frozen now,

By cold unkindness, bloom like buds and flowers,
Like fountain’s flash, for Hope with smiling brow
Tells of a spring whose sweets shall all be ours!]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16309 Sun, 08 Jul 2007 08:35:55 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16309
From their innumerrable breasts and wings –
All undiscerned by these our mortal eyes,
Hid in the folds of yonder misty skies,
More like imagined sprites than real things –

Celestial doves are shedding their white plumes,
And the whole land is covered with a shower
Of motes as fair as is an unsunned flower
Which, when it opens, yields its short-lived blooms

Vestured all over like a bride in white,
But colder than a corpse within its shroud;
The earth sleeps sparkling in the silver light

Of the soft snow, which, like a feathery cloud,
Still falls, as gently as Hope’s dreams, or Love’s,
From the pure forms of those celestial doves.]]>
From their innumerrable breasts and wings –
All undiscerned by these our mortal eyes,
Hid in the folds of yonder misty skies,
More like imagined sprites than real things –

Celestial doves are shedding their white plumes,
And the whole land is covered with a shower
Of motes as fair as is an unsunned flower
Which, when it opens, yields its short-lived blooms

Vestured all over like a bride in white,
But colder than a corpse within its shroud;
The earth sleeps sparkling in the silver light

Of the soft snow, which, like a feathery cloud,
Still falls, as gently as Hope’s dreams, or Love’s,
From the pure forms of those celestial doves.]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16308 Sun, 08 Jul 2007 08:34:57 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16308
When those we love are absent – far away,
When those we love have met some hapless fate,
How pours the heart its lone and plaintive lay,
As the wood-songster mourns her stolen mate!

Alas! the summer bower – how desolate!
The winter hearth – how dim its fire appears!
While the pale memories of by-gone years
Around our thoughts like spectral shadows wait.

How changed the picture! here, they all are parted
To meet no more, -the true, the gentle-hearted!!
The old have journeyed to their bourne; the young

Wander, if living, distant lands among;
And now wee rest our dearest hopes above;
For heavenly joy alone can match domestic love!]]>
When those we love are absent – far away,
When those we love have met some hapless fate,
How pours the heart its lone and plaintive lay,
As the wood-songster mourns her stolen mate!

Alas! the summer bower – how desolate!
The winter hearth – how dim its fire appears!
While the pale memories of by-gone years
Around our thoughts like spectral shadows wait.

How changed the picture! here, they all are parted
To meet no more, -the true, the gentle-hearted!!
The old have journeyed to their bourne; the young

Wander, if living, distant lands among;
And now wee rest our dearest hopes above;
For heavenly joy alone can match domestic love!]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16307 Sun, 08 Jul 2007 08:34:17 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16307
When those we love are present to the sight,
When those we love hear fond affection’s words,
The heart is cheerful, as in morning light
The merry song of early-wakened birds:

And, oh! the atmospere of home – how bright
It floats around us, when we sit together
Under a bower of vine in summer weather,
Or round the heathstone on a winter’s night!

This is a picture not by Fancy drawn: -
The eve of life contrasted with its dawn;
A gray-haired man, - a girl with sunny eyes;

He seems to speak, and, laughing, she replies:
While father, mother, brothers smile to see
How fair their rosebud blooms beneath the parent tree!]]>
When those we love are present to the sight,
When those we love hear fond affection’s words,
The heart is cheerful, as in morning light
The merry song of early-wakened birds:

And, oh! the atmospere of home – how bright
It floats around us, when we sit together
Under a bower of vine in summer weather,
Or round the heathstone on a winter’s night!

This is a picture not by Fancy drawn: -
The eve of life contrasted with its dawn;
A gray-haired man, - a girl with sunny eyes;

He seems to speak, and, laughing, she replies:
While father, mother, brothers smile to see
How fair their rosebud blooms beneath the parent tree!]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16306 Sun, 08 Jul 2007 08:33:34 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16306
Off in the West there is a sea of blue: -
While gloomiest vapors, clustering on high,
Tell that the hour of storm is drawing nigh;
For dark they rise, and darker to the view.

O, coldly from the East careers the gale, -
Sharp as adversity, or the pang of grief
Which sears the heart like Autumn’s withered leaf
When those we love in their affection fail.

Now from the scattering mists, relentless Rain
Falls in chill drops, precursors of the shower
That soon will prostrate the unsheltered flower,

Blooming of late securely on the plain.
In comes! in sudden gusts it rushes down;
And angry clouds o’er all the landscape frown!]]>
Off in the West there is a sea of blue: -
While gloomiest vapors, clustering on high,
Tell that the hour of storm is drawing nigh;
For dark they rise, and darker to the view.

O, coldly from the East careers the gale, -
Sharp as adversity, or the pang of grief
Which sears the heart like Autumn’s withered leaf
When those we love in their affection fail.

Now from the scattering mists, relentless Rain
Falls in chill drops, precursors of the shower
That soon will prostrate the unsheltered flower,

Blooming of late securely on the plain.
In comes! in sudden gusts it rushes down;
And angry clouds o’er all the landscape frown!]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16305 Sun, 08 Jul 2007 08:32:54 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16305 It this a painting?…

Written in view of the harbor of New York from the banks of North River,
on the loveliest and calmest of the last days of autumn.

Is this a painting? Are those pictued clouds
Which on the sky so movelessly repose?
Has some rare artist fashioned forth the shrouds
Of yonder vessel? Are these imaged shows

Of outline, figure, form, or is there life –
Life with a thousand pulses –in the scene
We gaze upon? Those towering banks between,
E’er tossed these billows in tumultuous strife?

Billows! there’s not a wave! the waters spread
One broad, unbroken mirror! all around
Is hushed to silence – silence so profound

That a bird’s carol, or an arrow sped
Into the distance, would, like larum bell,
Jar the deep stillness and dissolve the spell!]]> It this a painting?…

Written in view of the harbor of New York from the banks of North River,
on the loveliest and calmest of the last days of autumn.

Is this a painting? Are those pictued clouds
Which on the sky so movelessly repose?
Has some rare artist fashioned forth the shrouds
Of yonder vessel? Are these imaged shows

Of outline, figure, form, or is there life –
Life with a thousand pulses –in the scene
We gaze upon? Those towering banks between,
E’er tossed these billows in tumultuous strife?

Billows! there’s not a wave! the waters spread
One broad, unbroken mirror! all around
Is hushed to silence – silence so profound

That a bird’s carol, or an arrow sped
Into the distance, would, like larum bell,
Jar the deep stillness and dissolve the spell!]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16304 Sun, 08 Jul 2007 08:31:49 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16304
Calm twilight! in thy mild and silent time,
When summer flowers their perfume shed around,
And naught, save the deep, solitary sound
Of some far bell, is heard, with solemn chime

Tolling for vespers, or the evening bird
Pouring sweet music o’er the woodland glade,
As if to viewless sprites and fairies layed,
Who join in dances when the strain is heard:

Then thoughts of those beloved and dearest come
Like sweetest hues upon the shadowed wave;
And joys, that blossomed in the bowers of home,

The dews of memory with freshness lave.
O, that my last daybeam of life would shine,
Serenely beautiful, calm hour, as thine!]]>
Calm twilight! in thy mild and silent time,
When summer flowers their perfume shed around,
And naught, save the deep, solitary sound
Of some far bell, is heard, with solemn chime

Tolling for vespers, or the evening bird
Pouring sweet music o’er the woodland glade,
As if to viewless sprites and fairies layed,
Who join in dances when the strain is heard:

Then thoughts of those beloved and dearest come
Like sweetest hues upon the shadowed wave;
And joys, that blossomed in the bowers of home,

The dews of memory with freshness lave.
O, that my last daybeam of life would shine,
Serenely beautiful, calm hour, as thine!]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16303 Sun, 08 Jul 2007 08:31:13 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16303
The birds sing cheerily, the streamlets shout
As if in echo; tones are all around:
The air is filled with one pervading sound
Of merriment. Bright creatures flit about;

Slights spears of emerald glitter from the ground,
And frequent flowers, like helms of bloom, are found;
And, from the invisible army of fair things,
Floats o low murmur like a distant sea!

I hear the clarions of the insect-kings
Marshal their busy cohorts on the lea.
Life, life in action, - ‘t is all, music, all,

From the enlivening cry of children free
To the swift dash of waters as they fall,
Released by thee, O Spring, to glad, wild liberty!]]>
The birds sing cheerily, the streamlets shout
As if in echo; tones are all around:
The air is filled with one pervading sound
Of merriment. Bright creatures flit about;

Slights spears of emerald glitter from the ground,
And frequent flowers, like helms of bloom, are found;
And, from the invisible army of fair things,
Floats o low murmur like a distant sea!

I hear the clarions of the insect-kings
Marshal their busy cohorts on the lea.
Life, life in action, - ‘t is all, music, all,

From the enlivening cry of children free
To the swift dash of waters as they fall,
Released by thee, O Spring, to glad, wild liberty!]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16302 Sun, 08 Jul 2007 08:30:38 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16302
What marvel is it, that, in other lands
And ancient days, men worshipped the divine
And brilliant majesty of stars that shine
Pure in their lofty spheres, like angel-bands?

With a deep reverence, when evening came,
With her high train of shadows, have I bowed
Beneath the heaven, as each new-lighted flame
Glowed in the sapphire free from mist or cloud:

A holy presence seemed to fill the air,
Invisible spirits, such as live in dreams,
Came floating down on their celestial beams,

And from my heart there rose a silent prayer.
What marvel, then, that men of yore could see
In each bright star a glorious deity?]]>
What marvel is it, that, in other lands
And ancient days, men worshipped the divine
And brilliant majesty of stars that shine
Pure in their lofty spheres, like angel-bands?

With a deep reverence, when evening came,
With her high train of shadows, have I bowed
Beneath the heaven, as each new-lighted flame
Glowed in the sapphire free from mist or cloud:

A holy presence seemed to fill the air,
Invisible spirits, such as live in dreams,
Came floating down on their celestial beams,

And from my heart there rose a silent prayer.
What marvel, then, that men of yore could see
In each bright star a glorious deity?]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16301 Sun, 08 Jul 2007 08:29:59 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16301
Flowers are Love’s truest language; they betray,
Like the divining-rods of Magi old,
Where precious wealth lies buried, not of gold,
But love, - strong love, that never can decay!

I send thee flowers, O dearest! and I deem
That from their petals thou wilt hear sweet words,
Wose music, clearer than the voice of birds,
When breathed to thee alone, perchance, may seem

All eloquent of feelings unexpressed.
O, wreathe them in those tresses of dark hair!
Let them repose upon thy forehead fair,

And on thy bosom’s yielding snow be pressed!
Thus shall thy fondness for my flowers reval
The love that maiden coyness would conceal!]]>
Flowers are Love’s truest language; they betray,
Like the divining-rods of Magi old,
Where precious wealth lies buried, not of gold,
But love, - strong love, that never can decay!

I send thee flowers, O dearest! and I deem
That from their petals thou wilt hear sweet words,
Wose music, clearer than the voice of birds,
When breathed to thee alone, perchance, may seem

All eloquent of feelings unexpressed.
O, wreathe them in those tresses of dark hair!
Let them repose upon thy forehead fair,

And on thy bosom’s yielding snow be pressed!
Thus shall thy fondness for my flowers reval
The love that maiden coyness would conceal!]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16300 Sun, 08 Jul 2007 08:29:17 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16300 Tributary Sonnet

To my friend, the Rev. Walter Colton, author of "Deck and Port" and "Three Years in California," who died, having been long absent from home, shortly after rejoining his family. (Harper's Monthly, 1853)

Heart, that with warm and generous feeling beat--
How strange it seems to one who loved thee well,
That over thee has pealed the solemn knell,
And not one spark of all that genial heat
Remains each high-born sympathy to greet,
And glow with fond affection, when some word
Uttered in tone harmonious, low, and sweet,
Thy fervent depths to kind emotions stirred!
Alas--that thou, when life was doubly dear,
When once more reunited to thine own,
After such weary years of absence flown,
Should'st be translated--though to that bright sphere
On which, in child-like earnestness and faith,
Thy looks were turned beyond the door of death.]]> Tributary Sonnet

To my friend, the Rev. Walter Colton, author of "Deck and Port" and "Three Years in California," who died, having been long absent from home, shortly after rejoining his family. (Harper's Monthly, 1853)

Heart, that with warm and generous feeling beat--
How strange it seems to one who loved thee well,
That over thee has pealed the solemn knell,
And not one spark of all that genial heat
Remains each high-born sympathy to greet,
And glow with fond affection, when some word
Uttered in tone harmonious, low, and sweet,
Thy fervent depths to kind emotions stirred!
Alas--that thou, when life was doubly dear,
When once more reunited to thine own,
After such weary years of absence flown,
Should'st be translated--though to that bright sphere
On which, in child-like earnestness and faith,
Thy looks were turned beyond the door of death.]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16299 Sun, 08 Jul 2007 08:28:14 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16299 And look around me. Backward I survey
A lovely prospect, stretching far away
Through mists that curtain all the nearer land.
There once I wandered gayly, hand in hand
With the companions of my happy spring;
It was Life's realm of Fairy, rainbow-spanned,
Where birds and brooks together loved to sing,
And every cloud made pictures as it sailed.
That music yet resounds, those pictures shine
Through the far distance Time has faintly veiled,
Though many a rock, stream, valley intervene
Between me and that fairy-haunted scene.]]> And look around me. Backward I survey
A lovely prospect, stretching far away
Through mists that curtain all the nearer land.
There once I wandered gayly, hand in hand
With the companions of my happy spring;
It was Life's realm of Fairy, rainbow-spanned,
Where birds and brooks together loved to sing,
And every cloud made pictures as it sailed.
That music yet resounds, those pictures shine
Through the far distance Time has faintly veiled,
Though many a rock, stream, valley intervene
Between me and that fairy-haunted scene.]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16298 Sun, 08 Jul 2007 08:27:39 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16298 Oh, Autumn! When the winds are plumed with night--
They have thy colors, thy enameled light,
And all the fullness of thy ripened sheaves.
Of verdant joys aggressive Time bereaves,
And the glad transports of unclouded dawn;
But though the shadows deepen on Life's lawn,
Rays of serene and solemn beauty shed
A mellow lustre on my fading hours,
And with a calm and tempered joy I tread
Paths still bedecked with iridescent flowers--
Like thine, oh, Autumn! ere the sober gray
Of Winter steals thy glorious tints away.]]> Oh, Autumn! When the winds are plumed with night--
They have thy colors, thy enameled light,
And all the fullness of thy ripened sheaves.
Of verdant joys aggressive Time bereaves,
And the glad transports of unclouded dawn;
But though the shadows deepen on Life's lawn,
Rays of serene and solemn beauty shed
A mellow lustre on my fading hours,
And with a calm and tempered joy I tread
Paths still bedecked with iridescent flowers--
Like thine, oh, Autumn! ere the sober gray
Of Winter steals thy glorious tints away.]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16297 Sun, 08 Jul 2007 08:27:05 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16297
Time! thou destroyest the relics of the past,
And hidest all the footprints of thy march
On shattered column and on crumbled arch,
By moss and ivy growing green and fast.
Hurled into fragments by the tempest-blast
The Rhodian monster lies; the obelisk
That with sharp line divided the broad disk
Of Egypt's sun, down to the sands was cast:
And where these stood, no remnant-trophy stands,
And even the art is dead by which they rose:
Thus, with the monuments of other lands,
The place that knew them now no longer knows.
Yet triumph not, O, Time; strong towers decay,
But a great name shall never pass away.]]>
Time! thou destroyest the relics of the past,
And hidest all the footprints of thy march
On shattered column and on crumbled arch,
By moss and ivy growing green and fast.
Hurled into fragments by the tempest-blast
The Rhodian monster lies; the obelisk
That with sharp line divided the broad disk
Of Egypt's sun, down to the sands was cast:
And where these stood, no remnant-trophy stands,
And even the art is dead by which they rose:
Thus, with the monuments of other lands,
The place that knew them now no longer knows.
Yet triumph not, O, Time; strong towers decay,
But a great name shall never pass away.]]>